


a land of beauty and wonder

by melodiousmadrigals



Series: wondertrev week 2020 [3]
Category: Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Trevor Ranch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodiousmadrigals/pseuds/melodiousmadrigals
Summary: Day 3 of Wondertrev Loveweek: Trevor RanchSeveral months after the War, Diana makes the journey to the Trevor Ranch. But sometimes, confronting the truth is the hardest thing of all. Some angst, but a happy ending.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor
Series: wondertrev week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830868
Comments: 11
Kudos: 65
Collections: Wondertrev Week 2020





	a land of beauty and wonder

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, we die valiantly. Title from Diana's voiceover in Wonder Woman (2017). 
> 
> I humbly ask your patience, because this size of fic is something I'd probably spend at least a week editing and streamlining, but because I'm on a deadline to post for the wondertrev loveweek event, it did not get this level of care. I still hope you enjoy! :)

The first lie Diana tells in the World of Man is one of omission, but it is enormous. 

She's made her way to America, crossed an ocean and half a continent, and finds herself standing in front of a modest farmhouse. 

"Can I help you?" asks a girl that looks just out of her teens. 

Diana had planned on spilling the whole story, but the girl's eyes are very blue and her throat suddenly goes dry. 

"I'm looking for work," she manages. "Just for a little while." 

The girl blinks. "Well, that's more Mama's department, but it's almost planting season, and if you don't mind working a till…" 

"I am a hard worker," says Diana softly. 

"Well, don't be shy. Come in for something to drink, at least, and I'll talk to Ma." 

* * *

"I'm Ellie to everyone but my mother—then I'm Elena," Ellie says as they enter the farmhouse. 

"Diana Prince." 

"The sitting room's right through there," Ellie says, vaguely gesturing at the doorway to their left. "Make yourself comfortable."

Diana moves cautiously down the hall and through the doorway, stopping in a small but well-kept sitting room. 

She should've realized there might be photographs in the house, but they're still such a novelty to her that it never even crossed her mind. She gets the breath knocked out of her when she looks around and comes face to face with an image of Steve—a little younger, smiling widely. She can't help but stare: he looks so different, and she realizes it's because the photo was taken pre-war. He hadn't seen the worst of humanity, yet. 

"My brother, Steven," says Ellie's voice over her shoulder. "The photographer wanted him to be more serious, but Steve joked that if he was about to go off and die in a war, we should remember him smiling." She heaves a sad sigh. "Then he went and did it."

Here it is: a second opportunity to admit that she knew Steve, but she can't bring herself to say it out loud. 

"I'm sorry for your loss," she says instead. "I cannot begin to imagine your sorrow." Truly, she cannot: the person they lost is so much more than the person she lost; after all, what is a lifetime compared to a few weeks? Her closest point of reference is Antiope, but she was her mentor, not her sibling. 

Ellie tosses her the small but genuine smile of someone who's already come to terms with their grief. "Thanks."

Diana stares at the photograph just a little too long, lost for a moment, remembering the first time she saw him smiling like that. 

"He was very handsome, wasn't he?" Ellie looks a little wistful. 

"What? Oh, yes. He was." 

Ellie examines Diana's expression and then lets out a soft little _oh_ of understanding. "You lost someone too, huh?" 

Diana glances back at her, nonplussed. "I—yes. Several people. My aunt and cousins and my" _—my friend, my lover, my...Steve—_ "I loved him." 

Ellie nods sympathetically. "At least the War never came here, not like that." 

"It was only one battle on our shores. But it was enough."

"'Twas ever thus."

They're interrupted by the arrival of a woman with sharp features and graying blonde hair tied back with a bit of cloth. She's not quite as tall as Diana, but she's strongly built, and she's got keen dark eyes. 

"My daughter tells me you are looking for work." Her own accent is soft but noticeable. 

"Yes." 

"You have experience?"

"No, but I am strong, and learn quickly," Diana promises.

"You can ride a horse?" 

"Yes, very well." 

"I cannot pay much." 

"All I need is food and a place to sleep."

"Everyone has an angle," Steve's mother says, eyes narrowed. "What is yours?"

"Mama," Ellie says warningly. 

"I fought in the War," Diana says. "I am trying to make peace with the people I lost." That, at least, is not a lie, not really. She's here searching for answers, just as much from herself as from Steve's origins. 

In front of her, Irena softens just a little, and Diana sees Steve in the hold of her mouth, the way she tilts her head. 

"You can stay. Elena will show you around." 

"Yes!" exclaims Ellie, capitalizing on this. "Come on, Diana."

She pulls her outside and into the barnyard for a full tour of the Trevor Ranch. 

It's situated in beautiful country: grassy plains at the base of some picturesque foothills. Not quite as idyllic as Themyscira, but a seemingly nice place to grow up. She can't help but wonder how much blood was shed for this pastoral beauty, once upon a time. (She's learned that in Man's World, nothing beautiful is ever far removed from bloodshed.) 

* * *

Howard Trevor is not what Diana is expecting. She happens upon him by accident, tucked away in a little study when she exits the bedroom opposite it that she's been told she's sharing with Ellie.

He's lanky and tall, hair gone completely grey and a lot more soft-spoken than Diana pictured. He's also on crutches, barely able to walk. 

"Polio," he says, when he notices Diana's gaze on the crutches. "I had it as a child, but then it came back a few years ago. I can barely use my right leg."

"We did not have that where I grew up," Diana says cautiously, unfamiliar with whatever disease it seems to be. 

"Lucky you," huffs Howard. "I take it you're the new help?"

"Diana Prince," she says. 

"Nice to meet you, Diana Prince. I just do the books here now; it's Irena who runs the place. Thank God I have a capable wife and enough arithmetic to make myself useful to her, eh?" 

"I do not think a person's value is dependent on their physicality or marketable usefulness," answers Diana, frowning, "but an equal partnership is certainly something to be glad for." 

Howard tips his head and looks at her more closely, like he's properly seeing her for the first time. "You've got a fascinating way of seeing the world, Miss Prince." 

"Most people do not phrase it that kindly." 

"No, I imagine not."

* * *

Diana, used to rising early for training, is up at the first light of dawn. No one else is yet up, so she goes outside to do her usual training exercises, though with a staff instead of a sword. The simplicity of her old routine makes her feel a little more at ease, and she's in a good mood when she goes back inside. 

"You rise very early," says Irena in surprise. 

"I do not sleep much, these days," admits Diana, who has never needed as much sleep as she finds humans do. 

Irena hums. "Give it a few days of hard work, and I am sure you will find otherwise. It is good for the body, and the soul." 

Diana isn't so confident, but smiles anyways, and helps Irena with the morning preparations.

* * *

Diana, as she said, is a quick learner. When Ellie laments that she has to build fence, Diana tells her that if Ellie gives her a quick demonstration, she'll do it. 

Ellie skeptically obliges, and shows her how to dig the posthole and then drive it in a bit deeper, how to properly notch and fit the rest of the fencing. 

"And you're sure," Ellie asks, sweating profusely after just one fence post. 

"Positive," says Diana, who thinks that the labor will do her some good. 

"Right. Well, I'll come find you at lunchtime. We can always switch." 

For Diana, the biggest challenge is modulating her strength, because on her first try, she drives the fence post _too_ deep. Once she figures it out, though, it's pleasant going, hard enough to keep her mind occupied from all the places it normally drifts to.

Indeed, it's so cathartic that she finds herself crying—the productive sort, the kind that acts as an emotional steam valve—and, two hours later when Ellie returns, she feels a bit better. 

"Holy shit," Ellie whistles when she sees how much Diana's gotten done. "You're my new favorite person." 

It's hyperbole, of course, but it does mark a shift between Ellie's cordial pleasantness and a more open, unreserved friendliness that reminds Diana of home. 

* * *

(Sometimes, at night, on her way to the kitchen for a glass of water, she'll pause and look at the photograph on the mantle, trying to reconcile the easy grin and youthful eyes with the man she knew, hopeful despite himself, despite all the reasons he had to be cynical. She keeps hoping she'll find answers, but mostly, she comes up empty, left only with the same regrets as before.)

* * *

Diana learns many things: how to till and plant, how to build fence, how to herd cattle, how haying works. She gets on well with Ellie, appreciates Irena's brusque intelligence, and likes Howard well enough, though she interacts with him far less than the others. 

She and Ellie talk the most, given that their work overlaps with the most frequency. Ellie is bright and funny, cheerful in a way that she never got to see Steve be, and just as capable, in her own way. Diana learns about growing up in America, and the rest of the Trevor siblings (two more sisters, long since married and moved away, because Ellie is the youngest by almost ten years), and in the process, all sorts of things about Man's World from the point of view of a young woman. 

In turn, she shares edited stories about her childhood on Themyscira, and fondly recollects anecdotes involving Antiope and Lysandea and Korinna and her other fallen sisters. She finds herself lighter in talking about them, paying a small tribute to their memories. Themyscira's oral tradition is, after all, long and rich. 

Diana rarely mentions her time after Themyscira, though, and the longer she goes without coming clean about knowing Steve, the harder it gets. Especially when one of the Trevors mentions him. It's rare, but it's always like a gut-punch, reminding her of her culpability. 

"You would've liked my brother," Ellie says, one afternoon, after laughing at a witty joke that had fallen out of Diana's mouth. "He had that sort of humor, too. Dry and biting and funny. He could deadpan like no one else." 

"He sounds wonderful."

Ellie sighs, and puts down her pitchfork. "Best big brother in the world. Kind and patient, and never made me feel like I was less because I was a little girl. But Lord, was he stubborn. He'd get something in his head and there'd be no stopping him." 

It's the Steve she knew, but a little to the left; that is, with just a little more depth and a little more naïveté, not yet jaded by the War. 

It's strange, really, the way she's getting to flesh out her picture of him like this, the words of the people who knew him best and longest lining up with the things she knew, and other little details that suddenly make sense in context. 

Every detail she learns breaks her heart, underscores her own guilt, but it also provides comfort, makes her stronger, lets her heal just a little bit in other ways. There are, after all, ways to honor his memory, even if he can't be there with them. 

* * *

"You keep looking at that picture," says Howard, one evening, after everyone else has gone to bed. 

Diana was so lost in thought that she didn't even hear him come in, and she jumps, embarrassed. No one else has noticed, or maybe no one else has had time to notice. 

"I'm sorry," she says, feeling guilty, like she did as a child when she snuck a piece of baklava that wasn't meant for her. 

Howard levels her with a scrutinizing gaze, and it's unnerving, because for all that Steve is far more like his mother—the gumption, the daring, the razor smile and quick wit—there's absolutely no doubt where his eyes came from. To have them turned on her now, quietly observant and thoughtful, unsettles her. 

"You knew him." He sounds like he tripped over the conclusion: the surprise is evident in his voice, but there's no malice or anger paired with it. 

"Yes," Diana admits, voice cracking, because she still refuses to lie outright. "I did." 

Howard nods slowly, and lowers himself into the armchair across from her. He doesn't ask her why she didn't tell them, why she lied, even why she came. He doesn't even watch her, he just sits there, staring at Steve's picture, too. 

It's Diana who breaks the silence, because now that the truth is out, floating about the room, she needs to talk about him; feels it bursting in her chest.

"I did not know Steve long," she says quietly. "But he was important to me. I was there when he—" _died._ She can't force the word out of her throat, but her meaning is still clear.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Howard stiffen a little. 

"Do you mind me talking of him?" 

Howard exhales, shakes his head. "No. We heard so little of him, once he left. I'd like to know who my son was, at the end." 

Diana closes her eyes, nods. "A good man," she says. "Whatever else he was, he was a good man." 

She tells him an edited version: how Steve sacrificed himself to save thousands—maybe millions—of lives from the gas. She does not tell him who she is or how she met Steve or about Ares; if Steve, well acquainted with the horrors of the War and what she could do didn't believe her about Ares, she doubts they will now.

"They didn't tell us how he died," Howard says, when he hears what she has to say. "Just the telegram to say he had."

"He saw something wrong with the world," says Diana plainly, "and a way to fix it. So he did something." 

His breathing stutters, and a quick glance reveals a tear tracking down his cheek.

"I have something that belongs to you," Diana says after a pause. She slips her hand into her pocket and pulls out the watch—which hasn't left her person since the airstrip—and presents it to Howard. 

He stares at it a moment, runs a thumb over the crystal face, but shakes his head and gently closes her fingers around it. 

"It's yours." 

"Howard—" 

He cuts her protest off, and locks eyes with her for the first time since first entering the room, giving her a small, melancholy smile. "He loved you. If he gave you that, he loved you. He would want you to keep it." 

Diana is genuinely touched, and blinks once, sending twin tears tracking down her face. "Thank you," she says, voice thick. 

Howard sighs, and hauls himself up. "I'm off to bed, I think. Get some sleep, Diana. I heard Ellie threatening to have you build more fence tomorrow."

Diana stays in the sitting room a little longer, staring at the watch in her lap. It vibrates softly under her fingertips with each tick, and when she closes her eyes, she sees Steve on the airfield once more, pressing it into her hands. 

_I can save today. You can save the world._ It echos over and over; he _did_ save the day, but he shouldn't have needed to. 

She needs to leave, she decides. Even if Irena doesn't order her out of the house the second Howard tells her what she's been holding back, Diana can't stay here anymore, can't keep enjoying their kindness, not when she's the reason their son is dead. 

* * *

Diana expects there to be hell to pay at breakfast for lying, but no one says anything. Howard just gives her a little nod, and she realizes: he isn't going to say anything, because it is not his to tell. It makes Diana's guilt all the more pronounced; he probably wouldn't feel the same if he knew that her failure was the reason Steve is dead. 

At first, she neglected to mention who she was because she could not get the words out. Now, she cannot bear to see their kindness turn to disappointment or hate. A week, she decides. She can't stay here forever, and it's best not to get more attached, so she'll finish out the week and say her goodbyes. Everything is planted and growing, and the summer has been ideal for haying; the Trevor Ranch is in fine stead. 

"Diana," says Ellie slyly, breaking her out of her reverie. "Any interest in another fence line?" 

"Just tell me where," she says. 

Once she's sure she's alone in the field, she goes so far as to use her powers to nip over to the nearest railway station to get the weekly schedule. She needs to make her departure look realistic, after all, and the eleven-twenty steamer in eight days is just that. She's back in time to finish out the segment before Ellie returns. 

"You're a wonder, you know?" Ellie says, when she sees the progress. "Come on, we have time to go to the river for a quick swim before dinner! It'll be fun!" 

Diana follows as she chatters about one of the cows and her new calf, and the adorable spot over its eye. 

* * *

Three days before Diana's planned departure, Ellie is in the barnyard fiddling with the oil can and a couple of locked up gears in some machinery when she sees the buggy coming down the drive. 

She dusts herself off; the McElroys from down the way were going into town, and she'd asked them to pick up a new wrench and some gingham while they were there. (They're just far enough east of the closest town that it's an inconvenience to get there.)

As it pulls up, she expects to see Conrad, or possibly Maria, but it's neither; the buggy itself, in fact, is totally unfamiliar. Someone gets off, and then the buggy drives away. 

She shades her eyes, but the goddamn sun is making it impossible to see who it is, just that they're tall and have a limp. 

"Elliebee, you grew up!" the stranger calls. 

Ellie screams, and launches herself at him. 

* * *

Diana has spent the better part of the afternoon herding cattle onto a new set of pastures. She took a few minutes after she finished to enjoy a leisurely ride on Clover, the horse she most often uses. She's headed back to the farmhouse when she hears Ellie scream. 

The reaction is immediate and instinctual: Diana is going to _destroy_ whoever is hurting this girl who's become like a sister. She urges the horse forward into a gallop, leaning low over her back and subtly adjusting the gauntlets that she hasn't needed to use in months. 

On the approach, she sees Ellie tangled in the arms of a tall man, and she readies herself for a fight. (One man is nothing; the only challenge will be making sure Ellie isn't harmed in the chaos.)

Instead, she sees Ellie pull back, the widest grin on her face, clearly unharmed, and Diana pulls Clover up short, dismounting in one fluid motion as the stranger turns. 

She feels the breath leave her lungs without her permission, and time takes on a molasses-like quality, because standing in front of her, very much alive, is Steve. 

Time snaps back into rhythm as Ellie exclaims excitedly, "Diana, it's—"

"Steve," she breathes incredulously. 

"Diana?" 

His hair is cropped a little differently, and there's a jagged scar running from his temple down his cheek and neck, but it's undeniably him. 

In the space of less than a heartbeat, they're both moving, and they crash together into a tight embrace, the force of it lifting Steve up in the air for a few moments as she holds onto him for dear life.

A conspicuous cough from their audience prompts them to break apart. "Well," says Ellie dryly. "That _alone_ answers at least six of my questions, but I'm still going to need an explanation." 

* * *

Explanations have to wait until after Steve's heartfelt reunion with his family. As it turns out, a telegram got lost somewhere between London and New York, or maybe New York and here, because Steve had, indeed, sent a message notifying his family that he was alive. 

There are several rounds of hugs and quite a lot of crying before Ellie finally breaks and says, "All right, I need the story _now,_ " and Steve chooses that moment to take Diana's hand, a move that exactly no one misses.

And so the whole, sordid tale spills out. Some of it Diana was there for, the rest—waking up still half-dead in a field hospital, kept there for months until he could walk again, returning to London to find she was gone and Etta didn't know where, taking several more post-War missions until finally deciding to return to his family—is brand new information. 

"I am so sorry for not telling you," Diana finishes. "I did not intend to deceive you, but—"

"I knew that you were lying about something, Diana," Irena says, although not unkindly. "Not what," she adds, at the shocked look on both Ellie and Diana's faces. "I raised a good liar, and you, my dear, are not a good liar." 

Diana glances at the ground guiltily. "I suppose I should leave the espionage to Steve." 

Irena clucks her tongue. "Don't be stupid, Steve is not a good liar either. I am speaking of his oldest sister, Anna." 

"I was a _spy,_ Mama; lying was literally in my job description," says Steve in amused exasperation. 

Irena waves a hand at him dismissively and turns back to Diana. "Pretty words. His mouth says one thing but his eyes say another. Every time." 

"You know, that's true," interjects Ellie. "Now Anna, she could be sitting right next to Mama and claim she was an orphan from Boston and you'd believe her." 

Steve makes an offended noise and shoots her a look that says _traitor!_ but Ellie just shrugs and sticks out her tongue. 

"If you knew—?" 

"Why did I not confront you?" Irena considers her for a moment. "What good would it have done? It was clear you lied because you were in pain." 

"I did not want to tell you, because it was my fault he died," admits Diana. 

"What?" yelps Steve. 

"Hmph," says Irena. "My son has been making his own bad decisions since he was eighteen months old." 

When Diana gives her a puzzled look, Irena grabs Steve's left hand quick as lightning and flips it over, tugging it forward to show Diana. There, on the edge of his palm, is a silvery scar that's still very visible. 

"One day, I was frustrated. I had a cabinet that would not close. He was a quick boy," Irena explains, "and had seen his father working wood the day before. He noticed a mishaped board was the reason it would not close, and meant to cut it down. The knife did not behave quite how he wanted. His first bad decision, but not his last."

Diana laughs, watery, at the image of toddler-Steve trying his best and failing spectacularly. She reaches over and squeezes Steve's hand when he manages to pull it out of his mother's grip. 

"As embarrassing as that was, she's right," says Steve, low in her ear. "Nothing about my choice was your fault."

The rest of the fading afternoon is devoted to turning dinner into a veritable feast, and the household has never been so active. Irena doles out tasks with expert precision, and everyone from Howard (chopping onions at the kitchen table) to Diana (milking the two cows a little early so they can have an uninterrupted evening) falls in line. 

* * *

Ellie sidles up to Diana later, just before dinner, and gives her a hug, out of the blue. "It's sure been a day and a half, huh?" 

Diana does not quite understand this turn of phrase—it has been only four hours since Steve got home—but nods anyways, frowning a little at Ellie's amiable tone. "You are not mad at me?" Diana asks curiously. 

"Oh, I'm absolutely furious," says Ellie, even though she's smiling. "But I suspect I'll be over it by your first anniversary." 

"My—? _Oh._ " Diana blushes in understanding. 

Ellie laughs. "You're _so_ sweet on him, I can't believe I didn't figure it out. The way you looked at his picture... Mama's right, you're not subtle at all." 

Diana ducks her head, hiding the still-embarrassed smile on her face. 

"Hey, there isn't anyone else I'd rather have as a sister-in-law, you know?" 

"The honor would be mine," says Diana seriously. 

It's at this moment that Steve pops his head into the room. "Mama says dinner's ready." And then, "Uh-oh, I know that look, Ellie. What are you telling her about me?"

"Not everything is about you, Steven," Ellie shoots back. "Although this was, and it's still none of your business." 

Steve looks like he's going to protest, but Ellie just raises an eyebrow and says, "Keep pushing and I'll tell her all about your ninth birthday."

Steve's ensuing gasp of outrage is the kind only a sibling can elicit. "You weren't even alive yet!" 

"It's Anna's favorite. I could tell it back to front just as well as anyone." 

"Yeah, well—it's dinnertime," says Steve lamely, and it makes Diana laugh because he's not nearly so smooth-talking as he likes to pretend he is. "The story will have to wait." 

Dinner is a lively affair, the whole household lighter and joyous with Steve there. He and Ellie are quite the pair, recounting stories from their childhood, narratives flowing seamlessly back and forth as they each tell _their_ side of events and squabble about who is right and which sibling might take their side. 

It's a type of normal that Diana has only ever heard about in stories, never having had a sibling or a small nuclear family, and she finds that as much as she misses certain things about Themyscira, she loves this too.

* * *

It's only after dinner, late into the night when everyone has retired to bed, that Steve and Diana get some time alone, sneaking off to the sitting room to talk.

"I thought you'd gone back to Themyscira," Steve admits. 

"I did, for a while. Then I realized I couldn't stay." 

"Right," says Steve, and they lapse into silence. 

"I know it's been months," says Steve suddenly, "and that I have no right to say any of this, but everything I said on the airfield—"

"I love you," Diana blurts. 

Steve's eyes flick to her, so expressive even in the low light that it chokes her up. "Yeah? I love you too."

She leans her forehead against his, relishing in the feel of his skin under hers. In the end, they talk long enough that they fall asleep against each other on the sofa in the sitting room, and wake only to the clattering of fry-pans in the kitchen the next morning. 

"Breakfast?" asks Steve, smiling at her sleepily, and she can't help but steal a kiss. 

"Absolutely." 

They go into the kitchen to help, sneaking grins and moving in tandem so seamlessly in the small kitchen that it's like they've been doing it for years. It speaks of promise. After all, they have _time_ now; they can figure things out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! 
> 
> (A quick explanation: While Diana is a very honest person and I let the lie go on as long as it did mainly For The Drama, I don't think lies of /omission/ are *too* OOC for Diana "Willfully Hid That Antiope Was Training Her Against Her Mother's Wishes For Literal Years" Prince.)


End file.
